Carnival Revelation

Showers. That’s my revelation.

I was standing in line with my kids today at the Ferris wheel at the world’s most expensive carnival. As i’m calculating the cost of three of us riding the rusty, creaky, deadly contraption ($3.75/ticket one ticket per person per ride) it dawned on me. Imagine how much more money we would spend if the grubby, dirty, nicotine covered trolls who operate the machines were actually appropriately clean. Not sparking. Not even clean-shaven. Just scrubbed. I would be far less bitter about the cost of the ticket if I wasn’t handing it over to Grubby McDirty Pants.

I’m not saying a full dental overhaul. I’m not saying dress them formally. I just think a shower, and a clean shirt would go far.

I know it’s got to be a tough job. Constantly traveling, living out of something on wheels. No accessible running water, but come ON! The main goal is to take your children on the death-defying, lice-inhabited rides.

My kids did the “fun house”. The dude in charge was a growling, cranky, resentful carney. He was actually shouting at the small humans to hurry up down the slide.

There was no line, y’all.

They should have had him at a game booth. Have the aggro non-kid-friendly types at the game booths. Most parents aren’t going to fork over FIVE effing DOLLARS to let jr. take a crack at the dart game. No way. If i’m paying $5 for a game, you can be DAMN sure i’m the one holding down the water gun trigger. (and i did, and i won)

I’m not a rocket scientist, but I think I know a thing or two about marketing to families. Hose it off, decorate it, and slap a smile on it and you’re halfway there.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some e.coli cotton candy to eat.

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